A Walk in the Park
by LookingForTheLightSwitch
Summary: Marriage is never a walk in the park, even when you're in love. When Hermione Granger and George Weasley are matched by a new marriage law they are initially relieved, but marriage isn't easy. Who knows if they can learn to live with each other, let alone learn to love each other.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N – Hi, I am new author (due to general awkwardness of people I know in real life reading my stuff). This is an idea I've had for a while and just wanted to do. It's canon minus the epilogue in case you wanted to know. I'm in no way infallible; criticism is welcomed (although so are follows, favourites and reviews…) so thank you for even choosing to read this.**

**Disclaimer – I own none of Harry Potter.**

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><p><strong>A Walk in the Park - Chapter 1<strong>

Hermione Granger sat on the sofa in her small flat, engrossed in the pages of a thick book. Her eyes flickered across the pages as she sat in silence, pausing occasionally to take a sip of tea. Her legs were tucked under her and she was wrapped in a large jumper. The weather had been appalling for the past few weeks and the howling gale outside her window had only just started to ease up.

She had been sat like this for almost an hour when a gentle tapping sound caused her to jerk up, slopping the mug of tea she cradled in her hand. As the tea was nearly cold, it did little damage and Hermione merely sighed as she siphoned away the liquid, removing the mess.

Once she had finished, she remembered what had startled her initially. Looking over at the window, she saw an owl waiting patiently outside, its feathers ruffled by the wind.

She hurried over to the window and let the owl in quickly. She didn't recognise it, but she had many wards to stop dangerous mail. Ron always laughed and called her paranoid; she liked to think that she was prepared. She stroked the top of the owl's head with the back of her hand as she reached into the pot of owl treats that resided by the window. The owl accepted its gift happily and held out its leg obediently. She removed the letter and opened the window again, unsure if the bird wanted a reply.

"Clearly not," she smiled, as the bird flew away without a second glance.

She closed the window quickly; the wind was still harsh and cold. Walking back to the sofa, she looked at the envelope in her hand.

It had the Ministry of Magic seal. Unusual, but not unheard of for her. Although usually when anyone wanted to contact her out of office hours they didn't use the seal, and generally expected a reply.

Hermione scolded herself gently for overthinking this. The intelligent thing to do here would be to just open the letter. And so she did.

As her eyes scanned the contents they widened. Her hands started shaking and she sunk deep into the sofa, her hand running anxiously through her hair.

She couldn't do this. She couldn't. She couldn't inflict herself on anybody, let alone who it might be. And Merlin, who could it be?

Within the next six months, Hermione was going to have to get married. To a pureblood of the Ministry's choosing.

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><p>The Burrow was in uproar. Mrs Weasley paced anxiously around as her many children conveyed their anger through shouting and in the case of some, the smashing of plates.<p>

Hermione sat in the midst of this chaos. Her head rested in her hands. What if she ended up with someone she had fought against in the war? Someone who treated her like the scum they viewed her to be? She would have to have children with this person, how? How did any government have the right to do that to their people?

Not everyone suffered though. Bill and Fleur were already married and had a child. They would be allowed to continue their lives with the person of their choosing; the person they loved.

Percy was also one of the lucky ones. He had proposed just weeks before to his girlfriend of several years, Penelope, and had applied for the marriage license, thus exempting him from the law.

Charlie was abroad and having lived in Romania for over three years had no obligation to return and be married. If he decided to return to Britain however, he too would be under the jurisdiction of the new law. Somehow, Hermione suspected the dragons would be the choice here.

George was pacing frantically. He was barely ready to live life again, let alone be forced into a marriage. It had been three years since Fred had died and still he looked lost without him. He now came along to family events, but there was no way he was ready for this. Hermione's heart wrenched as she caught the word 'Fred' from his quiet muttering.

Ron too was not happy with this new law. He had been decidedly single since the end of the war, he and Hermione having decided that they weren't suited to be together. Hermione winced; some poor girl was going to have to put up with him chewing with his mouth open for the rest of their lives.

Harry and Ginny sat quietly in the corner, entwined in each other's arms, Harry having finally persuaded Ginny to stop destroying all of the Weasley's crockery. Hermione knew Harry had planned to propose this spring and had retrieved his grandmother's ring from the family vault in preparation. It was a disaster that he had not made this decision earlier or he and Ginny might not have suffered under this new law. Sadly, their fate, like Hermione's was in the hands of the ministry.

Each member of the wizarding population between the ages of 20 and 40 were subjected to this law. Increasing numbers of squibs born from too much interbreeding from purebloods and the war meant the wizarding population of Britain was at an all-time low. All witches and wizards within this age range would have to undergo a series of tests from which a suitable spouse, by both bloodline and, with luck, personality would be chosen. By this time next week, she would know the identity of the person she would be spending the rest of her life with.

The tests were fairly simple. A medical and then some brief questions about what she enjoyed doing, her aspirations and other generic questions. Hermione was astounded that such a tiny set of questions was being allowed to dictate the future of half the wizarding population. She had half a mind to send a letter of complaint in, but knew this would have little effect. The ministry had received so much mail over the last few days, she doubted it would be read, let alone taken into account.

This whole situation emotionally exhausted her, as well as physically. She had spent the last three nights reading over the small print in the bill, trying to see a loophole. However, no matter how hard she tried, she realised the ministry had put a lot of effort into making sure this bill was watertight. There really was no way out.

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><p>Three days later, just a week after she had received the first letter, another arrived, bearing the name of the man whom she was to marry.<p>

Hermione felt nauseous as she detached the letter from the owl's leg, her eyes unfocused as she offered the owl a treat.

This was it.

She broke through the thick wax seal, gritting her teeth as she pulled the paper from the envelope.

Her eyes scanned the page desperately, skating over the legal jargon as she tried to find her partner.

Finally, she saw the words she had been looking for.

George Fabian Weasley.

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><p><strong>AN – I hope that was okay. Please follow/leave reviews if you can – it makes my day. I hope to update within the next couple of weeks. However, please don't quote me on that… Thank you for reading.**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N - Firstly, thank you to everyone who followed, favourited and left reviews. You all really made my week. I have been trying to get ahead on chapters so I can post them frequently (at least once a week) but I really don't want to make promises because if I have a bad week, I really don't feel a lot like writing. Anyway, thank you - I hope this chapter is okay...**

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><p><strong>A Walk in the Park - Chapter 2<br>**

_This was it._

_She broke through the thick wax seal, gritting her teeth as she pulled the paper from the envelope._

_Her eyes scanned the page desperately, skating over the legal jargon as she tried to find her partner._

_Finally, she saw the three words she had been looking for._

_George Fabian Weasley._

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><p>At first, she felt overwhelming relief. Her eyes filled with tears and her breath hitched as she took in the words she had just read. She wasn't partnered with a death eater, or the child of one. She was partnered with someone she knew. She was partnered with someone on the side of good.<p>

George Weasley. He was a friend, she thought. More like a brother really, but she supposed this would have to change. She pulled a face, then chastised herself for it. He was going to be her husband. She had to get used to this.

She decided that The Burrow was a good place to start. She suspected everyone would collect there to discuss their partners. She only hoped they all had someone they could deal with. Or if luck was really on their side, someone they liked, or even loved.

She straightened her clothes and walked into the bathroom the freshen up. She did spend a moment longer than usual looking in the mirror, not that she would admit it to herself. Fiddling with her hair once more, she apparated to The Burrow.

"Hermione!" Hermione flinched as her ears were bombarded by a shrieking Ginny. The girl positively bounced towards her, her face split into a huge grin.

"Let me guess: you got Harry?" Hermione smiled, her arms enveloping her closest female friend. Soon to be sister, she reminded herself.

"I hadn't dared to think it could happen but now it has," Ginny paused breathlessly. "I'm so happy." She sighed.

"Any news on what the others got?" Hermione asked cautiously.

"Ron got Luna. Bit of a surprise, I know, but she's lovely."

"She probably won't mind that Ron eats like a pig too," Hermione smirked.

Ginny laughed, throwing her head back with slightly too much enthusiasm at Hermione's comment.

"George isn't here yet," Ginny continued. "Maybe he's gone to visit his before he comes here," she mused.

Hermione opened her mouth but before she could speak, Harry emerged from The Burrow. He walked towards them, beaming.

"I guess you've heard the news," he smiled, slipping his arm around Ginny's waist. He paused awkwardly. "So, who did you..?"

Ginny let out a little yelp, jumped forwards, and grabbed Hermione's hands.

"Merlin! I completely forgot! Who?" She demanded.

"My selfless girl," Harry smirked, promptly receiving a thump over the head. "Ouch! Remind me why you aren't a beater again?"

Ginny shushed him and turned again to Hermione, her eyebrows raised expectantly. At Hermione's hesitance, she leaned closer, as though that would make her friend share the news more quickly.

"Um," Hermione hesitated. "It's George."

"George what?" Ginny asked. "Do we know him?"

A sharp crack startled the three of them and Hermione flinched. Turning around, she saw George standing there awkwardly.

"Ginny," she said, gesturing towards her friend. She swung her hand towards the new arrival. "Meet George."

George smiled at his sister's utter confusion and gave a small wave.

"You George? As in, my brother George?" Ginny spluttered.

"Uh, yes," Hermione said gently, unsure of how Ginny was going to react.

"Well," Ginny looked astounded. "Rather you than me."

"That appears to be what got us into this situation in the first place," George joked.

Hermione smiled at him as Harry burst out laughing.

Ginny seemed to have regained her senses and pulled Harry back towards The Burrow, leaving George and Hermione stranded outside.

"We'll leave you two lovebirds to it," she yelled from inside, before slamming the top half of the kitchen door closed, a final giggle escaping.

An awkward silence promptly fell upon the garden.

"So..." Hermione said, aware she had no idea what she planned to say.

"So," George replied, suddenly taking great interest in the floor. "I guess we have to..."

"Yeah," Hermione offered, desperately trying to avoid his eyes.

"We could take a walk?" George suggested nervously, wringing his hands.

"That might be a good idea, if you want," Hermione replied as they slipped into step beside each other. She internally slapped herself, trying to pull herself together. She had known this boy, man, for years. She wasn't some awful third year girl with her first crush.

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Hermione finally felt she had to break the silence.

"So, how was your morning?" She blurted out. She blushed furiously as George chuckled beside her at her terrible attempt at conversation..

"Oh, not too bad," he grinned. "Yours?"

"Surprising, to say the least," she replied, smirking slightly.

"Surprising?" George asked, gently mocking her. "How so?"

"Well," she said, deciding to play along. "It does appear that a large number of my friends have decided to get married."

"Is that so?" George said, a twinkle in his eye. "We wouldn't want you to be left out now, would we?"

"If only I had a suitor," Hermione laughed, placing her hand on her chest and looking desperately into the distance.

"Oh, Miss Granger," George replied and Hermione rolled her eyes gently."If it is a suitor you want, it is a suitor you shall have." He sank onto one knee and pulled out a box. "Will you marry me?"

"This is so unexpected, I don't know," Hermione replied, a sly grin sneaking across her face. "I guess you'll have to do."

"I'll just about do?" George said with mock outrage. "I know I'm lacking in some areas," he gestured towards his missing ear, winking. "But I'll have you know, I will be the best husband I can."

With this, he looked into her eyes and she could tell he was telling the truth. His brown eyes, instead of conveying their usual cheekiness, had a more serious expression. She looked up at him and smiled gently, silently making the same promise; to be the best wife she could for him.

For a second, she thought he might kiss her, but as quickly as the feeling had arrived, it was gone. Instead, they embraced, his chin resting on the top of her head.

"Thank you," she whispered into his chest. She felt his lips peck the top of her head and in that moment, knew this marriage law wouldn't be half as bad as she had initially envisioned.

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><p><strong>AN - Hello again! I hope that was alright and wasn't too awful. As always, reviews etc are enjoyed. Also, if any of you wanted to, I have some other Harry Potter [and Starship if any of you are StarKid fans] on my other profile, user HidingBehindASmile - I'll put a link on my profile if any of you are interested. Thank you for reading.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N - Another update, hooray. I'm really proud I'm actually staying vaguely to a schedule with this, hopefully it shall continue. Anyway, enjoy!**

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><p><strong>A Walk in the Park – Chapter 3<strong>

The Weasley family, with additions, had collected in The Burrow. Everyone seemed remarkably relaxed given their future had just been decided for them.

Molly Weasley was bustling around, making sure there was enough food for everyone. As usual, there was far too much. Nobody seemed to mind however, as most were taking the time to discuss the day's events.

Luna was chatting away happily to Ron, who was taking advantage of the plentiful food. He nodded and grunted at appropriate moments and Luna looked happy, twiddling her radish earrings.

Harry and Ginny were looking overjoyed and portraying their feelings in a manner not quite appropriate in front of family. Harry, at least, seemed embarrassed about it and flushed whenever he made eye contact with Hermione. She smirked.

She and George sat next to each other, desperately fending off questions from Mrs Weasley about when they wanted the wedding to be and minor details George hadn't even realised people worried about. Who knew there were so many types of flowers?

Finally, Hermione stood up.

"I should head home," she said. "I have some work to catch up on."

"I should check on the shop," George added, taking the opportunity to escape his family. "Unsurprisingly, not many people were willing to work today."

Everyone waved and hugged their goodbyes and eventually Hermione and George managed to extracted themselves from the house. They walked a distance from the house before George spoke.

"Do you want to go out sometime, this evening? If you want?"

"Are you asking me on a date, Mr Weasley?" She grinned.

"8 o'clock? I'll pick you up?"

"See you then," Hermione smiled and was gone with a crack.

George smiled, a hint of butterflies in his stomach.

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><p>Hermione flicked through her wardrobe exasperatedly. What were you supposed to wear on a first date that wasn't going to end anywhere but marriage?<p>

She pulled out dress after dress, top after top, trousers after trousers. It was at this point she wished she had a friend who she could just give a call and they would sort everything out for her. Sadly, most of her friends didn't know what a mobile phone was, let alone how to use one.

She briefly contemplated talking to Ginny, but decided it was odd to ask someone what their brother would find most attractive.

Eventually, she decided on a nice top and smart jeans. Nothing too smart, nothing too casual. She put on a bit of make-up, but not a lot and tried to tame her hair a bit. She pulled a face at the mirror and walked out into the living room to resume pacing nervously, as she'd spent most of the afternoon doing.

As the clock on the mantelpiece chimed eight, she heard a knock on the door. She was glad he was punctual. Ron and Harry were always turning up late, often with elaborate excuses about 'auror duties'. Somehow these duties never seemed to be reported, even when they claimed to have defeated 13 trolls and a hag with only one wand between them.

She rolled her eyes and made her way to the door quickly. As she opened the door, she jumped back with a yelp. George did the same on the other side, having been trying to look through the peephole and being surprised by the opening of the door. They both laughed and the tension they hadn't realised they were feeling relaxed slightly.

"Hi," George said, seeming slightly embarrassed.

"Hi," Hermione smiled, turning a soft pink colour. "So, what are we doing?" Hermione asked brightly, trying to avoid an awkward silence.

"Surprise," George said, sticking his tongue out. He offered his arm and Hermione gratefully took it.

As they emerged from the darkness of apparition, Hermione realised they were in a dark field. She looked up at George nervously. He pointed to their left and Hermione turned her head.

"Wow," she whispered.

A fairground lit up the sky. She could see a large Ferris wheel and numerous rides. Now she had noticed it, she could hear the excited screams and laughter of children. George offered her his hand and she took it happily. Together they wandered over to the fairground, chatting excitedly.

"I haven't been to a fairground in ages," Hermione said excitedly. "I must have been 11; it was before I came to Hogwarts. I went with my parents. We have a picture on the mantelpiece…" She trailed off. "Well, we used to," she said tightly.

George gave her hand a minute squeeze, sensing her discomfort. She squeezed back, slightly harder. He grinned and did the same. Soon they were having a small competition, laughing at each other. Hermione noticed that he never squeezed too hard though; making sure he never hurt her.

"Dodgems?" She asked.

"You what?" George looked confused.

"Come here," she said, pulling him towards the area segregated for the dodgems. "They're like cars."

"I fetched Harry from the Dursley's in Dad's car; I think I can manage," George laughed, fingers wiggling in anticipation.

"Just remember this one doesn't fly," Hermione said, wagging her finger at him, a smile on her face.

"No promises," he said, winking.

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><p>"I won," she laughed, throwing her head back.<p>

George's jaw dropped open slightly. Merlin, she looked beautiful when she did that. He smiled and raised his eyebrows in mock outrage.

"What? I won!" He exclaimed, slinging and arm around her waist.

"You cheated. I know you used magic," she accused gently, raising her own eyebrows.

"Magic?" A small voice behind them asked. "Can I see?"

George crouched down, pulling a pack of cards from his pocket. Hermione recognised them immediately as one of the mimic muggle sets he and Fred had produced a long time ago. He performed an exciting array of tricks, vanishing the whole packet and revealing the card the young boy had been thinking of from inside his baseball cap.

"Stuart!" Someone who seemed to be the boy's mother called from by a nearby stall. "Come on!"

The boy, Stuart, cast a wistful glance at George and turned to go.

"Wait," George said.

The boy turned eagerly.

"Put this card inside your pocket. When you get back to your mother, it will be gone," George told him, giving him the queen of hearts.

The boy ran over to his mother, and then looked inside his pocket. His jaw dropped. Hermione watched happily as he wittered on to his mother about what had just happened and she nodded, not really listening to his words.

"My queen?" George said, handing Hermione the same card.

She laughed and took his arm happily.

They arrived back outside her flat, smiling and flushed from their evening. Hermione fumbled in her bag for her keys.

"If you want a drink or something…" She trailed off.

George hesitated, his expression unreadable.

"I should head home, actually," he said, almost sadly. "But I had a great time tonight."

"Me too," Hermione said, her eyes bright.

Gorge reached out, his hand stroking her face.

"Candyfloss," he said, by way of an explanation.

Hermione blushed deeply. George lingered, seemingly unsure of what to say.

"Thank you, again, for a great night," he said. With that, he pulled her into a hug a pecked her on the cheek. He stepped back and disapparated on the spot.

Hermione couldn't stop smiling, despite his slightly odd exit. She let herself in and got ready for bed. She went to sleep with a smile on her face.

Miles away, above his joke shop, George Weasley did the same.

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><p><strong>AN - Thanks for reading, again. Reviews are met with great appreciation... Just saying... Well, thank you. I shall be back soon (fingers crossed).**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N - Hey guys, here's another chapter. Writing this actually going well at the moment and I figure if I can stay three chapters ahead I can still update at least once a week if I go through a rough patch. I've been overwhelmed by how many follows/favourites/reviews I've had - I can't thank you enough. So by way of thanks, here's the next chapter...**

**Disclaimer - I haven't done one of these in a while but I still haven't managed to come to own Harry Potter during that time. **

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><p><strong>A Walk in the Park – Chapter 4<strong>

George sat in his workshop, his hair sticking in many directions and his robes stained with potions. He scratched his head, looking at the bubbling sludge in his cauldron and wondering what had gone wrong, again.

He had been working on this potion with Fred before he had... Well. They had worked on it together and it only had a few kinks left to work out. Unfortunately, these were rather stubborn kinks and, much as he loathed admitting it, George was more of a charms man. Fred always had more of a knack with potions. He would always manage to realise when a potion needed a unicorn hair or pixies' droppings or other ridiculous ingredients.

George was still shaking his head when a knock came on the door.

"Verity, I told you I didn't want anyone- Hermione!" He said in surprise, having turned around and realised it was not his assistant.

"Hi," Hermione said, giving a small wave. "It's 8:15 and I was wondering-"

"Bollocks," George swore violently.

"It doesn't matter," she said, walking into the workshop, shutting the door behind her. "What are you up to?" She asked curiously, peering into his cauldron and promptly gagging.

"Ah. Yes," George grimaced. "It's not quite going to plan. Fred would know, but..."

Hermione reached out and placed her hand on his arm. He pulled her into a gentle hug.

"I miss him," he whispered into her hair.

She stayed silent, knowing that nothing she could say would help.

"If he was here he would be laughing at me right now," George commented wistfully. "And then just point out what I was missing just like that."

Hermione pulled away from him, her head tilted to the side curiously.

"Well, what are you making?" She transfigured a stool and sat down, looking at George with interest.

George noticed she had deliberately chosen not to sit on Fred's chair, despite the fact it was empty and next to his. He was grateful.

"We wanted a potion that could turn someone's hair into snakes. Like Medusa," he told her. "We're just having trouble stopping the snakes from biting the person whose head they're inhabiting."

Hermione nodded, strategically ignoring his use of the plural, as though Fred were still there. She turned her attention to the bench when the current ingredients were listed, with many annotations and crossings outs. She ran a finger down the list, her forehead wrinkled in concentration. She finally came to a halt.

"You've got an eye of a fire crab in here," she commented.

"Uh, yes?" George replied, shrugging.

"Snakes are much more active when it's warm; it probably has the same effect," she scratched her nose thoughtfully. "I'd add some knotgrass. It subdues growth in animals so may limit activity of the snakes. If not, some scurvy grass could do it," she pondered. At George's confused expression she added, "scurvy grass increases confusion so is likely to slow the snakes down and make them less likely to attack," she recited, looking at her hands. She looked up anxiously at George.

He was smiling widely, and she grinned back.

"I know we were going to go out, but we could try it if you want?" She asked him.

By way of response, he summoned ingredients towards him at an incredible pace and placed them on the table. Hermione cleaned out the bubbling mess in the cauldron with her wand and lit the fire to the correct temperature.

They worked together well, chatting away as the potion brewed. Hermione felt more relaxed than she had brewing in a while; Harry and Ron were prone to adding the wrong ingredients and due care and attention was needed at all times. George, on the other hand, was helpful and neat in his creations. He noted down the recipe as they went along, making careful note of the occasional adaptations Hermione made.

They discussed everything, from work to childhood stories. George shared some of the pranks he was most proud of and soon had Hermione nearly in tears with laughter.

"I thought you hated our pranks," George admitted.

"I hated that you tested your products on first years," Hermione said, raising her eyebrows in a fashion not dissimilar to McGonagall.

George had the presence to look at least slightly ashamed.

"We were paying them," he pointed out. "But I suppose it wasn't the brightest idea," he admitted under Hermione's sharp glare. She didn't notice his crossed fingers.

Hermione looked satisfied and George smiled innocently.

"A sprig of knotgrass, two minutes of clockwise stirring, and we should be done," Hermione told him.

George was practically bouncing in anticipation. He had been stuck on this potion for so long and finally it was going right. A lot was going right at the moment, much of it due to the woman to his right, he realised. He'd started to feel alive again. Looking at her expression of concentration, he thought she looked beautiful. The focus on her face was incredible.

She looked up at him abruptly and he flinched, blood rushing to his face. Hermione didn't notice.

"We're done!" She exclaimed happily.

"Now all we need is a first year to test it on," George winked. "Kidding!" He added at the expression on her face.

"Any volunteers?" Hermione said, looking around the room. "Oh, George," she commented, feigning surprise. "Of course you can go first!"

"You little witch," he laughed, slinging his arm around her waist.

She looked up at him cheekily, giving him an innocent smile. He opened his mouth to say something but she promptly stuffed a spoon in containing the potion. He swallowed and she extracted herself. She laughed at his hurt expression.

"I just want to be at a safe distance," she smirked, as snakes began to sprout from his scalp.

The snakes were bright orange with brown eyes, containing the same twinkle, Hermione noticed, as George's did. He stood with his face screwed up anxiously. The snakes moved but made no attempt to bite him, merely wiggling around his face. George stroked one gently.

"I'm going to call you Bob," he joked and Hermione let out a small giggle. "No, Bob!" George yelped as the snake was sucked back into his scalp. "Noooo," he declared dramatically.

"It worked!" Hermione exclaimed.

"It worked!" George shouted, grabbing Hermione round the waist and swinging her around. "I've been waiting for so long for this and now it works and Merlin, I could kiss you right now."

Hermione landed on the floor in front of him, his hands still on her waist. She looked up nervously and their eyes locked. She closed her eyes and leaned in.

Their lips locked and Hermione felt all the breath leave her lungs. She felt his arms tighten around her and she eased her mouth open, gently flicking her tongue into his mouth.

When they finally broke apart almost a minute later, both were breathless. Hermione looked up at George and they both broke into huge smiles.

"Wow," he said softly.

"Wow," she breathed back.

They leaned in again.

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><p>About an hour later, Hermione disentangled herself from George, albeit reluctantly.<p>

"I should go," she sighed. "I have work in.." She checked her watch. "Six hours."

George looked in shock at her watch.

"Time flies, I guess."

"It does," Hermione replied sadly. "See you tomorrow, wait, today," she groaned.

"Get yourself to bed," George said, pulling her into a hug. "I'll see you later," he assured her.

"Later," she nodded.

With a quick peck on the lips, she was gone. George stood still, looking at the space where she had just been.

"She's not taking your place, don't worry, Freddie," he whispered. "Well," he chuckled softly. "We certainly didn't do that, anyway."

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><p><strong>AN - Thanks for reading! Review? If you'd like. Any kind of response means everything to me. Thank you, I'll update soon (hopefully)...**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N - I'm insanely happy to say I've had over 1000 views of this fic, which may not seem like a lot for some, but I am truly overwhelmed. Thanks for all your support, follows, favourites and reviews. I'm not sure I'm entirely happy with this chapter, but oh well. Let me know what you think...**

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><p><strong>A Walk in the Park – Chapter 5<strong>

Hermione and George sat curled up on the sofa. George had just discovered the joy of television and was watching 'You've Been Framed', laughing uncontrollably, occasionally asking questions about what specific muggle objects were.

Hermione wiped tears from her eyes, having just tried to explain the George the purpose of a trampoline. It was at times like these his curiosity reminded her of his father. They had a similar interest about the world around them and a desire to understand everything.

"You're really like your dad," she commented, giggling slightly.

"What? Me?" He winked at her. "I bet you're like your dad."

Hermione stopped laughing, her grin fading into nothing. Her eyes filled with unwanted tears and she bit her lip sharply.

"What's wrong?" George looked worried at the thought of hurting her. He hated to think he had caused this.

"It's nothing," Hermione almost croaked, her voice cracking as she spoke.

"It's not nothing," George said softly, flicking his wand and silencing the television.

"Okay," she admitted. "It's not nothing."

George looked at her gently, waiting for her to speak.

"My parents," Hermione started shakily. "They, I, I obliviated them. During the war. To keep them safe!" She said loudly, as though justifying her decision.

"That was incredibly brave," George murmured, his arm squeezing her tightly.

"I sent them to Australia so that the Death Eaters couldn't find them, but I couldn't take the risk of them remembering me. Or even remembering that they were the Grangers," she stared blankly into the distance and George was sure she was remembering the events.

George remained silent, giving her time to think what she wanted to say.

"But, after the war, when I tracked them down," she broke down into sobs.

George rubbed her heaving back, pulling her tightly into his body. Her body was shaking and it was the most vulnerable he had ever seen her. He couldn't think what to say, so he just sat and held her in his arms, rocking her gently. His own eyes glistened with tears as he felt her pain.

After a while, she quietened down. He heard an almost non-existent whisper.

"I couldn't get them back."

George rested his chin on her head, again holding her as she cried.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She looked up, confused.

"For what?"

"For not knowing," George mumbled. "For acting like I was the only one who lost someone. I've been so self-involved these past few years. I didn't mean to, it just..." He sighed. "Happened."

"I only told Harry and Ron," she admitted. "I didn't want everyone pitying me."

"I don't pity you," George said. "I understand you."

She nodded, her eyes wide and sad.

"Does it still hurt?" She whispered, her question almost childlike.

"Of course it does," he said, pulling her hands into his. "Every day, I wish he was still here. I wish we could make jokes, pull pranks, or even just sit here in silence," he paused. "But we can't."

Hermione looked up at him, her eyes wide. He swallowed carefully, keeping his eyes fixed on the mantelpiece, similarly to how she had done it earlier.

"And, some day, one day, I will be okay with that. Because that's what he would have wanted." George tried to make his voice sound convincing. He believed what he was saying; he knew Fred would have wanted him to move on, but it was easier said than done. And at the moment, it was hard even to say.

"He would," Hermione agreed. "My parents would feel like that too, I think."

"I know they would," George told her. "Anyone who brought up someone as well as they brought up you would put your happiness first."

"I know," she smiled weakly. "It's just..."

"Hard? Terrifying?"

She nodded.

"But," he whispered. "It's not impossible."

Hermione smiled softly, resting her head against his shoulder. He welcomed the contact, pulling her legs over him. They sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, each immersed in their own thoughts.

After a while, Hermione spoke.

"You know, I've seen this episode before. A man swings into a tree in a minute; it's hilarious."

"Then let's not delay," George smiled, restarting the programme with a quick flick of his wand.

As George lay on the sofa, roaring with laughter a few minutes later, Hermione giggled.

"Maybe we should introduce you to George of the Jungle," she laughed.

"This George is sure to be far inferior to me, of course" George said with a smirk.

"I don't know, he does look quite good without a top on," Hermione snorted at George's look of mock outrage.

"I suppose I shall watch this, _thing_, with the silly other George," George conceded, pouting slightly.

Hermione got up and sorted it out, collapsing back on the sofa a few minutes later with popcorn. George put his arm around her shoulders and she snuggled close to him. She pressed play, and the film started.

Nearly two hours later, the credits were rolling. George had undergone the emotional journey of his first film, Hermione having spent most of the film watching him instead, laughing at his reactions. Now, she just lay sleeping, her head on a pillow in his lap.

George stroked her hair softly. As she shifted slightly in her sleep, he smiled.

"Goodnight," he whispered.

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><p>"GEORGE, GEORGE, GEORGE OF THE JUNGLE!"<p>

Hermione woke up to a cheery George clattering around her flat, singing cheerily. Not to mention out of tune. Hermione winced and sat up on the sofa, rubbing her eyes. She yawned and stretched widely.

George's hear poked out of the kitchen, his ginger hair tufty and messy from the night on the sofa.

"Ursula is awake," he proclaimed, beating his chest with his fists.

Hermione snorted with laughter. George disappeared back into the kitchen, whistling merrily. Hermione got up and headed into her bedroom, wincing at the state that was her hair.

She emerged five minutes later, looking (and smelling) better. She wandered into the kitchen, following the nice smells of cooking that wafted from the room.

George, upon seeing her enter, ushered her to the table which had been laid out with cutlery and glasses of juice. He dropped a kiss to her lips, but jumped back as he remembered he was cooking. The slightly smouldering pancake was rescued and George blew a kiss at Hermione who laughed and pretended to catch it, rolling her eyes as she did so.

As the pair sat down to breakfast, they laughed and chatted.

"My mum used to make pancakes on Sundays," Hermione said softly.

"Fred used to love pancakes," George replied.

She slipped her hand into his and the pair exchanged a look. A look that told them they would be alright with each other, that no matter how much it had hurt to lose the ones they loved, they would love again.

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><p><strong>AN - Thanks for reading! Until next time...**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - I am sorry it's been longer than usual, this week has been bad. I'm in the process of changing medication and as a result I've had a fairly horrible week. I still have a few chapters ahead of this, but hopefully I'll get writing again soon. Anyway, enough about m life - enjoy!**

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><p><strong>A Walk in the Park – Chapter 6<strong>

"Should I be able to breathe in this thing?" Hermione gasped. "Because I can't."

"You're speaking; you can breathe," Ginny dismissed with a smirk.

This was the fifth shop the girls had tried searching for dresses in. Hermione had given up long ago on finding something incredible and had now downgraded her hopes to 'the next thing I try on'. Ginny, on the other hand, had very different ideas. Hundreds of dresses should be tried on, some more that once for some obscure reason. As many shops as possible was the best way to go for her.

Hermione had hoped that being brought up in a family of boys would persuade Ginny towards an anti-shopping stance. Looking at her watch and realising they had been out for several hours, Hermione sighed. Clearly not.

This was a muggle shop and the poor saleswoman hurried around as Ginny picked many dresses for Hermione to try on. They had decided that wizarding wedding robes, although they suited Ginny, tended to make Hermione feel awkward, and so they had decided on a more traditional muggle approach for her.

Yet, still, nothing seemed quite right. All of the dresses Hermione had perused and tried on were met with a grimace or a shake of the head from her friend. Hermione was getting steadily more frustrated with having to try on so many dresses that when she hauled herself out of the altogether too small cubicle, he face was sullen and defeated.

To her surprise, Ginny merely tilted her head. She looked up and down the dress carefully, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

"We'll take it," she said to the saleswoman offhandedly.

"Excuse me?" Hermione said, annoyance creeping into her voice. "Do I not get any say in the matter?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and looked at her friend in despair.

"Have you even seen yourself?"

Hermione turned to look in the mirror to her left. The woman who stared back looked even more astonished than Hermione felt. The flowing dress showed her shape beautifully, cutting in nicely at her waist. The embroidery on the bodice was exquisite and Hermione found herself stepping towards to mirror to look more closely. She looked like herself, but somehow, she looked so much better.

"Wow," she murmured.

"So we'll take it?" Ginny smirked.

"We'll take it," Hermione confirmed, her eyes still fixed on the mirror.

"He'll be lost for words when he sees you like this," the saleswoman commented. "You look beautiful."

Hermione flushed deep scarlet, muttering thanks under her breath. She hoped George would find her beautiful. In all honesty, she hoped he would find her even vaguely attractive. After all, she didn't want to let him down. She was very conscious of meeting his expectations; she didn't just have high aspirations in her academic career, she wanted all areas of her life to be successful. She couldn't fail this.

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><p>George yelped as a pin was stuck into his arm. The woman who worked at the shop merely tutted and rolled her eyes, dismissing his pain.<p>

"How about this?" The woman asked, looking at her watch.

George contemplated his reflection for a few seconds before giving a sharp nod. These robes looked good on him and were smart enough that his mother would be happy. Looking at the price, George winced. Even Aunt Muriel better be happy with how much these were costing. George was in no way poor, his business was successful and profits were high. George's childhood of second hand stores and hand me downs still played in his mind and he found himself drawn towards cheaper items.

The woman helped him out of the robes and directed him behind a screen so that he could get changed again. George emerged to find the woman packaging the robes in a large bag.

"Any problems, come back," she told him. "And you need to let me know when your best man is coming in." She pulled out her calendar expectantly.

George paled.

"If you want his robes to match the colour scheme he'll have to come in before Friday. This law takes up a lot of time," she told him.

"I don't have a best man," George whispered.

"What?" She said sharply. "Speak up."

"He's dead," George said loudly. "My best friend is dead."

The woman's jaw dropped and she gaped at him awkwardly for a few moments. George stared stonily back at her, his jaw tight.

"How much?" He asked, nodding at the bag.

"Sixty galleons, nine sickles," the woman said quietly. "In fact, just make it sixty galleons."

George opened his coin pouch and directed a stream of coins at her, not caring how much money came out. Then, scooping up the bag containing his robes, he walked out of the door, letting it slam behind him.

He walked briskly down Diagon Alley, breathing heavily. When he made it to the shop, he walked in, raised a hand at Verity and marched upstairs.

Slamming the flat door behind him, he sank down to the floor. A bushy brown head poked out of the kitchen.

"Tea?" She asked.

George nodded. His breathing slowed as he remained against the door, the only sound assorted clinking from the kitchen.

Hermione finally appeared, carrying two steaming mugs. She sat down next to him and handed him his mug. He put it on the floor next to him and leaned his head on top of hers. She too put down her cup and slipped an arm around him.

"Ugh..." George exhaled. "People."

"People are stupid," Hermione replied.

George nodded. He paused.

"Sometimes I wish I was famous enough that people would learn not to mention the dead brother," George said bitterly.

There was a pause as Hermione slipped her hand into his.

"Just because he's not going to be there, doesn't mean he's not with you," she said softly.

"How did you..?"

"You came home with your outfit," Hermione said, nodding at the abandoned bag. "And only he has this effect on you."

George pulled her legs across his lap, stroking her knee softly.

"You know me scarily well," he said, smiling at her.

Hermione shrugged, smiling back. She pressed her lips gently to his. When she pulled away, George was looking at her intently, his eyes soft.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I love you too," she whispered back, leaning in once more.

When she pulled away this time, both were breathless and she could see George's pupils were dilated. She smirked.

George flopped his head back, accidentally smacking it on the door as he did so.

"Ouch," he complained, rubbing his head.

"We could go somewhere a little more comfortable?" Hermione blushed at her own forwardness.

"You sure?" George spoke softly, cradling her hands in his.

Hermione merely rolled her eyes, standing up and pulling George from the floor into the bedroom with a laugh.

A couple of hours later, the couple lay intertwined in his, _their_, bed. Two cups of tea sat stone cold by the front door.

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><p><strong>AN - As always, thanks for reading. I can't even express how amazed I am by having nearly fifty follows on this fic. Now just to match that with reviews, eh? Until next time...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N - Here's the next chapter, a bit of a filler, but I didn't want to go straight into the wedding. I hope you enjoy!**

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><p><strong>A Walk in the Park - Chapter 7<strong>

The day was here. As Hermione woke up, she had a feeling something important was happening, but she couldn't quite think what. In her drowsy state she wondered whether she had an interview or something. Rubbing her eyes and sitting up in bed she finally caught sight of the white dress hanging up on the back of the door. Her jaw dropped.

How could she have forgotten? She was getting married today. She looked over at her alarm clock and seeing it was nearly nine, scrabbled out of bed. In doing so, she became tangled in her duvet and fell with a loud thump to the floor.

As she lay prone on the floor, she heard the sound of the floo and her bedroom door was thrown open, her maid of honour standing in the doorway.

"I hate to ask," Ginny smirked. "But what are you doing on the floor?"

"I fell," Hermione pulled a face, attempting to disentangle herself from the duvet. When she succeeded, she pulled herself up, attempting - and failing - to look dignified.

Ginny laughed at her friend, but her face hardened when the clock in the living room struck nine.

"Time to get ready!"

Hermione groaned.

Two hours later, Hermione felt like a pincushion, having been poked, prodded and sprayed with many things in Ginny's attempt to make her look her best. Subduing her hair, as always, was the main issue, but Ginny had searched far and wide for a useful hair potion they could use and Hermione had to admit she had succeeded. Her hair was out of her face, partially pinned up and the rest lay lightly curled down her back.

She twirled a curl with her finger as she looked in the mirror. Her make-up was subtle, yet effective, highlighting her eyes and making her skin look light and radiant. Hermione beamed at her reflection.

"Looking pretty perfect, though I do say so myself," Ginny grinned, sticking her tongue out at Hermione as she twirled a make-up brush in her hand.

"Thank you, Ginny," Hermione said. At Ginny's shrug she added, "No really, thank you so much."

Ginny blushed slightly and pulled Hermione into a gentle hug, trying to avoid ruining her hair.

"It was the least I could do my future sister in law," she told Hermione. "And you were so supportive at mine and Harry's."

Ginny and Harry's wedding had been a few weeks before and they had just returned from the honeymoon. Ginny had been rather highly strung on the day of the wedding and Hermione had spent the majority of the time trying to calm her down, ignoring Luna's airy suggestions of creatures that could be behind Ginny's nervousness.

Despite Ginny's seemingly never-ending worries, the day went off without a hitch, a beautiful ceremony with all their closest family and friends present. It had been a very happy occasion, the love the couple shared obvious as it had been with Percy and Penelope's wedding at the beginning of the month. Ron and Luna were due to be wed a fortnight after George and Hermione, just after they returned from their honeymoon. Luna had some pretty peculiar ideas but Ron was happy to follow her example and supported her, even when Mrs Weasley showed signs of dissent.

Hermione stirred out of her reverie and looked at Ginny who had a dreamy look in her eyes, clearly occupied by thoughts of her own wedding. She looked up, caught Hermione's eye and smiled.

"Dress time!"

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><p>George woke up and was immediately wide awake. He almost sprung out of bed and launched himself towards the window. Sun. Great. Perfect start to a hopefully perfect day.<p>

He went about his business as usual for the first hour or so, with a hint of added care. He showered happily, singing loudly and out of tune as he washed his hair. He was dancing as he made his breakfast and even chewed his toast with extreme vigour, unable to keep a grin off his face.

A few months ago, George could never have imagined marrying the bushy haired bookworm he had come to know and love, but now he couldn't imagine ending up with anyone else. She understood him, and although they had their differences, they were able to look past them, for the moment at least.

Checking his watch, George ran a hand through his hair and went into the bedroom, scooping up his robes. They had decided it would be better if he got changed when he arrived, so nothing would become crumpled during apparition. Floo, unsurprisingly, was out of the question given its aptitude for singeing clothes.

George made sure the flat was tidy given that he wouldn't be returning for a few weeks and set the usual charms as he locked the door. Then, checking his watch once more, he apparated to The Burrow.

Molly ran out to greet him as he appeared in the yard and threw her arms around him, tears in her eyes.

"Mum, leave the poor boy alone," George heard Bill's voice call from the house. "He's getting married, not about to go on an expedition to kill a dragon."

Molly released George, albeit reluctantly, and beckoned him towards the house, babbling excitedly about various wedding details. George allowed himself to be herded inside, but didn't listen to his mother's words and merely let the run over him.

Bill managed to remove Molly once more when they entered the hands and left her in the capable hands of Arthur as he clapped a hand on George's shoulder and directed him upstairs.

George changed in Bill's room, having not returned to his own room since the Battle of Hogwarts. When he was done, Bill walked in and sat on the bed next to him.

"You look nice," Bill said, colouring slightly. "Everyone's started arriving," he added.

"Thirty seven minutes to go," George replied.

"Not that you're counting or anything," Bill smirked. His face became more serious. "Marriage is hard, George, but I know you can make it work. I know neither of you wanted this-"

"I want this," George cut in, sounding surprisingly assured.

Bill's face broke into a smile again.

"And you'll do a great job, little brother."

"Of course I will," George winked. "I'm incredible."

"Modest too," Bill laughed.

They sat quietly, George wringing his hands in his lap.

"He would be proud of you," Bill said softly.

"I know," George replied.

"Let's do this," Bill said, grabbing George's hand and pulling him up from the bed. "It's nearly time."

Downstairs in Ginny's room, Ron and Harry stood either side of the bride-to-be. They were taking the role of her father for today and would be walking her down the aisle together. Ginny stood in front of them, admiring the trio.

"You look perfect," she announced.

Hermione slipped her hands into Harry's and Ron's, receiving a gentle squeeze from each.

"Let's do this," she said.

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><p><strong>AN - Thanks for reading. Reviews are always appreciated. You know, just in case you wanted to leave one. or not. That's cool too. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N – Well. I'm very very very sorry about the delay. Can't promise it won't happen again though, the work load at the moment is rather overwhelming.**

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><p><strong>A Walk in the Park – Chapter 8<strong>

George stood at the front of the large white tent, just in front of the Ministry of Magic employee who was acting as the official in the ceremony. He faced away from the aisle he knew Hermione was soon to walk up and only just suppressed the urge to turn around.

As the wedding march (Hermione had said it was a muggle thing) started, he heard the soft gasps and whispers as Hermione came into view of the amassed family and friends. George stared at the canvas walls for a few more seconds before he finally gave in to temptation and turned around, his eyes coming to rest on his bride.

His jaw dropped. She looked stunning. She looked slightly nervous but as her eyes rose to meet his a smile spread across her face. Either side of her, Ron and Harry were smiling, and Ginny, who was following behind, was a close second to the bride in her pale blue bridesmaid's dress.

George's eyes remained locked with Hermione's as she continued up the aisle and he only broke eye contact when she hugged the boys and Ginny. Their fingers interlocked as she took her place beside him. The official spoke to the congregation as a whole once silence had fallen.

"We are here to celebrate the eternal joining of George Fabian Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger," he said, his voice loud and clear. "Marriage is a sacred oath, a blood bond used to ensure that each participant is bonded in a truly magical vow. George and Hermione will speak the marriage vows as they undergo the blood bonds," he said, nodding at the couple.

Hermione and George turned to face each other, simultaneously reaching out for the jewelled knives which lay on a small table next to the official. Taking the knives in their left hand, they pulled the blades across the palm of the right and as blood began to bead on the surface of the skin, locked hands. Any muggle looking upon the ceremony would think the couple were rather awkwardly shaking hands but the wizarding congregation merely looked on with smiles.

George was the first to speak.

"I promise to love and to cherish," he started. "As long as the sun shines upon us."

"I promise to give and to share," she replied. "As long as moon lights the night sky."

"I promise to stay loyal and strong," George said, his hand squeezing hers slightly. "As long as the trees still stand tall."

"I promise to care and look after you," she smiled at him. "As long as the wind continues to blow."

"I shall be with you, forever," he said softly.

"I shall be with you, for eternity," she said, nodding slightly.

The couple then began to speak together.

"For you are mine," they said, "and I am yours."

With that line their handed glowed a bright silver and when the glow abated, the official spoke again, a smile on his face.

"May you live happy lives, forever linked as husband and wife. Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Mr and Mrs Weasley!"

George and Hermione both pulled slight faces at being called Mr and Mrs Weasley; it was crazy to think of themselves like Arthur and Molly. They broke into smiles and leaned in for their first kiss as married couple. Applause started from their guests, along with a couple of whoops from what sounded like the Weasley boys.

They pulled apart, their faces red but wide with smiles. Arthur stood up and addressed the crowd.

"Just through here," he gestured through an arch in the marquee, "we have a buffet and an area for dancing to take place. We hope you can stay and enjoy the festivities, we welcome you all."

The congregation exchanged glances briefly, before a mass migration to the other area commenced.

"Don't eat _all_ the food, Ron," George called to his younger brother, causing titters amongst the guests.

Ron looked ready to throw a rude gesture at George, but a stern look from Mrs Weasley, Mrs Molly Weasley that is, changed his mind. Instead, he offered his hand to Luna and walked through with her, listening intently to her comments on the ceremony.

Molly and Arthur hurried up to George and Hermione, enveloping them both in hugs. Molly's eyes were looking remarkably red and tear tracks lined her face. Despite this, she beamed widely at the couple.

"Welcome to the family, dear," she said to Hermione. "Not that you weren't before, but you know, officially," she blustered.

"Thank you," Hermione said sincerely. "I am so glad I can officially be a Weasley."

Molly stepped forwards and wrapped her new daughter-in-law in yet another hug. Arthur exchanged amused looks with George before deciding to rescue Hermione from the vulture-like grip of his wife.

"Molly, dear, let's go through and see if everyone is enjoying the food," Arthur said, offering his arm to his wife.

She took it happily and the couple walked arm in arm into the next room, leaving George and Hermione alone. It seemed even the ministry official had decided to ambush the buffet table.

"Ahh," Hermione said, causing George to look at her curiously. "We're actually married!"

"Yes, honey," George said in a patronising manner.

Hermione poked George in the stomach and laughed. "Hush, you."

George took this opportunity to lean in for another kiss. When he pulled away, Hermione's fingers curled around his robes.

"Hush some more," she whispered, pulling him towards her.

A whoop from the archway finally broke them apart again. Ginny stood there, her eyes twinkling at the couple.

"You ever going to come through and see everyone, or are you just planning on staying here and snogging?"

"Snogging, definitely," George replied.

Hermione laughed, but took her husband's hand in hers and pulled him towards the next room in the marquee, Ginny sticking her tongue out at her brother as he passed.

The pair was met with applause as they entered the room and a space cleared for them in the centre of the dance floor.

"Can you dance?" George whispered.

"Not in the slightest," Hermione replied.

"Perfect, me too."

George slipped his arms round her waist and she eased her arms onto his shoulders. They swayed in time with the music, chatting softly about the other guests.

"Your Aunt Muriel hasn't even told me I have skinny ankles yet," Hermione said with glee.

"Well, she's your Aunt Muriel too now, maybe she's decided to be nice," George laughed.

"Or someone put something in her drink," Hermione laughed.

"That's probably more likely," George grinned.

As a more lively song started playing, Hermione and George separated, still holding hands.

"Food?" She asked.

"Thank Merlin," George exclaimed. "I've never been so hungry in my life."

* * *

><p>Several hours later, the guests had dwindled until only family remained. Hermione and George were ushered into the house to change and grab their cases before they returned outside. Hugs were exchanged and goodbyes said, with far too many winks occurring for Hermione's liking.<p>

"Thirty seconds," Arthur reminded them.

The couple grasped the bouquet of wedding flowers that was their portkey for the honeymoon and checked they had everything they needed.

"Oh I think I forgot my-"

"Too late, honey," George laughed and they both felt the familiar tug on their navel as the portkey was activated and they were carried away.

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><p><strong>AN – Firstly, I would like to say that I do not own the 'you are mine and I am yours' line. I shamelessly stole it from Robst and his fic 'Harry Crow' (which I highly recommend). I also apologise for the general crapness of the vows. They are kind of 'earthy' because I figured the wizarding world leaned more towards Paganism or similar rather than Christianity. Anyway, I don't have good enough cheese levels; I did contemplate asking my boyfriend, but figured asking him to write marriage vows but thought that might be slightly terrifying.**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N – I have no excuse really. Writer's block, university, and depression kind of fucked me over a bit, but either way, I should have updated long before now. I'm so terribly sorry.**

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><p>"What are you doing?" Hermione yelped with a squeal of laughter.<p>

"I've got to carry you through the doorway, that's what muggles do, right?" George replied, pecking his wife on the nose.

"Generally, the door is open first," Hermione smirked.

"Ah," George grinned. "Small issue. That's what magic is for," he pointed his wand at the door and carried Hermione through as it swung open, before plonking her on the floor rather unceremoniously.

"You really know how to treat a girl," Hermione laughed from her position on the floor.

"You didn't seem to mind these past few weeks," George said with a suggestive wink, laughing at the blush that rushed to his wife's cheeks.

George offered her his hand and pulled her to her feet, immediately sweeping her off her feet once more into a kiss. As they moved towards the bedroom, he thought that he wouldn't mind being like this for the rest of his life.

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><p>Three weeks later, George's optimism had worn off. The slam of the door that signalled Hermione was back from work made him wince slightly. He walked from their room into the small lounge to find Hermione looking furious, a pile of clothes in her arms.<p>

"Hard day?" George asked her tentatively. Her work had been full on since they had returned and the added pressure of many ministry court dates was getting to her.

"You want to explain?" Hermione turned to face him, holding up the clothes.

"They're these incredible things that humans use to cover their skin so they don't get cold," George smirked.

"Then what the fuck are they doing on the floor?" Hermione exploded, and George regretted making the joke.

"It's not like anyone is coming here," he replied, reasonably in his opinion.

"Does it not matter that I'm here? Can't I want my own flat to be clean? Can't I walk into my own home after a shit day at work and expect it to look vaguely clean?"

"It's not like I haven't been working," George scowled, anger building inside of him.

"But you're here! You've been here since, what, six o'clock?" She glanced at her watch. "Is doing a small bit of tidying before nine too much trouble?"

"Fred would never have…"

"Well I'm not Fred!" Hermione almost screamed. "I'm not him. Fred is dead! I'm not just some replacement for him now he's gone. He's dead, George, don't you get that?"

George's face went slack and pale and Hermione felt a flicker of guilt which was suppressed by her anger. George's face darkened as he spoke again.

"Don't you think I know? Do you really think that a day goes past when I forget my twin, the most important person in the world to me, is dead? You have no idea how I feel! You can't just march in here and tell me what to do, how to act, just because he's gone and you're not. You know what, fuck you!" George almost fled from the room, running a hand through his hair as he did so. Hermione flinched as she heard the kitchen door slam, before fleeing the room herself, not even grabbing her coat as she left through the front door of the flat.

She leant against the window of the shop, out of breath and with tears running down her cheeks. The few people still left on Diagon Alley gave her intrigued glances but, fortunately, no one stopped to say anything.

Hermione sank to the floor, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her head on her arms. She couldn't believe she'd got so worked up over a few jumpers, she couldn't believe what she'd said to George, what she'd said about Fred.

In all honesty, she realised she had said those things to hurt him. She knew that Fred was his weakness, just as a comment about her parents could bring her to tears in seconds. But he hadn't gone that far, she had. She was completely to blame. With sudden clarity of thought, she pulled herself up and disappeared with a loud crack, reappearing by an all too familiar gate.

She chewed on her lip nervously as she stood by the gate to the graveyard. She staggered forwards and her hands gripped the gate so hard that her knuckles were pale and taut. Trembling, she managed to release her grip and open the gate, tears once again filling her eyes.

Even in the dark, she knew exactly where to go and within minutes she was by his grave, where she once again sank to the floor, this time to her knees, and let the tears flow.

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><p>George sat in a similar position on the kitchen floor. He couldn't believe what she had said to him. He thought that of all people, she would understand how he felt. That she would know what was okay, and what wasn't acceptable. Clearly, he was wrong.<p>

Admittedly, it had been partially his fault. He knew she had been struggling with all the pressure at work and he knew how frustrated his mess made her and yet he did nothing to stop it. Marriage was all about compromise, right?

He wiped his damp eyes with his sleeve and stood up, looking at the kitchen. Even he had to admit it was a bit of a mess, and mostly, if not completely, his mess. He waved his wand at the piles of plates and left them to wash themselves up in the sink while he moved to the lounge. The pile of clothes that had started this whole thing lay in the middle of the floor. George had never before felt judged by a pile of inanimate objects. He walked to the pile and picked the item up, carefully folding them.

Once he was done, once the flat was spotless, he knew there was one more place he needed to go.

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><p>Hermione gasped, trying to hold back the tears. She had no idea how long she had been here, just sobbing. She swallowed, and tried to compose herself somewhat before she finally spoke.<p>

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry," she whispered. "I didn't, I don't, have any right to say what I did. I don't want to make him feel like he has to forget you. I don't want to lose him, but everything's just been so hard. Fuck, that's not an excuse. I'm sorry. I do love him, Fred, I promise I love him. More than I ever thought I could. I was just angry and I'm so sorry. I know you're the most important person to him and you should be and I'm just so sorry…" She dissolved into tears once more.

"He would forgive you, you know," a soft voice from behind her said. "Not easily, mind, but he would. He's said his fair share of things he's regretted. Me too," he put his hand lightly on her shoulder.

"I don't deserve to-"

"No," George's reply was sharp. "I love you. I'm not going to pretend it didn't hurt, but I still love you. I'd do anything for you, even clean the flat," he laughed softly.

"I was wrong to-"

"We were both wrong," George replied, helping Hermione to her feet. "I forgive you, I just hope you forgive me."

"Of course I do," Hermione started, before being pulled into a hug so tight she worried she might suffocate. She felt George kiss her head lightly, and she suddenly knew everything was going to be okay. She looked up at him and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Come on," George whispered. "Let's go home. Fred would be rolling his eyes and telling us how gross we are right now. Let's go home, and it can be just you and me."

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><p><strong>AN – I don't know how I feel about this or whether it's what I want it to be, but hey, it's something. Reviews would be great, and hopefully it won't be so long next time…**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N – Look at this, an update that didn't take 6 months! It's miraculous! Anyway, this is kind of short, but hopefully it's okay – enjoy!**

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><p>"George?" Hermione's voice drifted into the workshop.<p>

George made an unintelligible noise and Hermione poked her head through the door, bursting into a fit of giggles as she saw her husband with a pile of books and potion ingredients in his arms, his wand held between his teeth. She hurried in and relieved him of some of the items, placing them on the workbench. George removed his wand from his mouth with a crooked grin.

"Sorry, bit much on my plate right now," George smiled, gesturing at the golden plate that sat on the workbench.

"Do you need any-"

"One second," George interrupted, rushing over to stir a potion that was bubbling away in a small pewter cauldron. Seven time anticlockwise, Hermione noted. "Yes, sorry, I'm back. I've got…" He paused, glancing at a sand timer that stood above the fire. "…Seven minutes and twelve seconds," he continued.

Hermione walked towards her husband and placed her hand softly on his arm.

"Maybe you should get someone to help?" She suggested gently. "You can't do this all alone."

"I can't," George grimaced. "I don't have the time to teach someone the ropes and still get the new set of products out when I want them to be."

"I could help," Hermione suggested gingerly.

"I couldn't let you do that," George said, drawing his wife into a hug and kissing her gently on the top of her head. "You spend more time working than I do, and you know how tough it's been for you," he murmured, squeezing her gently as they both thought of their argument a few weeks before.

"That's the thing," Hermione paused.

George drew back and looked into her eyes, catching sight of the embarrassment, or was it fear, hidden there.

"What do you mean?" George asked softly, stroking Hermione's hand with his thumb.

"I, it's just…" Hermione stumbled over her words. "Iwasthinkingofquittingmyjob," she burst out.

"You are?" George looked slightly confused. "But you love your job."

"I do, honestly, I do. But," Hermione wrung her hands nervously. "It's just been so busy and we barely see each other and I know that you've been struggling and I just thought that maybe if I left the Ministry I could help you and we'd all be happier and…" She trailed off, looking up at George nervously, an eyebrow raised.

"Trust me, there is nothing more I want to do than spend more time with you," George smiled, pulling his wife in for a quick kiss. "But are you sure you've thought this through?"

Hermione responded with a snort of derision. Pulling a stack of papers out of her bag, undetectably extended, of course, she spread them on the table, careful to avoid a slightly ominous looking patch of green liquid.

"Me?" She smirked at George slightly. "Not plan something?"

"I'm sorry," George laughed. "Stupid question. So you think we could actually be better off if you left the Ministry? Not that money matters," he added quickly.

Hermione squeezed his hand.

"I may be a war hero," Hermione said, screwing up her face up at the phrase. "But the Ministry is not known for its generous salaries," she said with a laugh.

"And from the look of this," George said, gesturing at the piece of paper he was reading studiously, "you think we can make a lot from this place."

"Well, it would require some of the knowledge of a handsome genius," Hermione laughed as George preened. "As well as his less good looking, idiot of a brother, George," Hermione added with a sly smile.

"You'll pay for that!" George jumped back from the table, launching forward to tickle Hermione.

She giggled, writhing under his fingers, before twisting round and unleashing revenge on him.

"Nooooo," George laughed. "Not my ribs," he said, with a slightly girlish shriek.

He then pulled Hermione towards him, trapping her arms under his and, when she huffed indignantly, leant down to kiss her softly. She relaxed immediately into his embrace and returned his kiss, her arms snaking around his waist.

The kissing intensified for a few minutes until a small ding broke the pair apart, both looking slightly flushed.

"Ahh, time to stir again," George said with a longing look at his wife before he turned to walk towards the cauldron.

"Let me," Hermione offered with a grin.

"Of course," George replied, stepping aside to let Hermione pass him.

She walked to the cauldron and stirred easily and precisely before removing and drying the rod and hanging it back up on the rack. She felt George's arms slip around her waist from behind and she interlocked her fingers with his, leaning her head back onto his chest.

"I could get used to this sort of work," George murmured from behind her, his head resting on hers.

"Don't you get your hopes up, George Weasley," Hermione said strictly. "We have to get actual work done here. No shenanigans, you hear me?"

George responded by pinching her bum gently and running away, giggling to himself. Hermione looked briefly annoyed before breaking into a smile, turning round, and chasing after him.

"When I find you, Mr Weasley, you're dead!"

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><p><strong>AN – I hope you liked it. I know it's not my best, but yeah. Also, I feel like such a loser asking for reviews, but they make my life infinitely better so… Please? Thanks for reading.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N – Sorry, it's been a while again. [Also I just edited it because a bit needed a bit more clarification (identified by arabellagrace's review, sorry if you get another notification]**

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><p>"Phew, done for the day," George grinned, pulling Hermione into a quick kiss as the final potion of the day, a perfume that caused all males in the vicinity to start squawking, was poured into the pre-labelled vials and placed in a box, ready for transfer to the shop shelves.<p>

Hermione pulled back from the kiss all too quickly for George and glanced at her watch, packing her things in her handbag as she did so.

"I have to go," she said briskly. "I, uh, need to grab some groceries before the shop closes. Don't want to miss out," she stumbled over her words and George couldn't help but look at her curiously.

"It's 5pm on a Tuesday, love," he said softly. "The shops won't close for a good few hours yet."

"I just, I don't want them to have sold out of, uh, chicken," Hermione replied, pulling on her coat. "I just think a stir fry would be great for dinner tonight, don't you think?" She babbled at him and George furrowed his eyebrows.

"I can go if you..?"

"No!" Hermione said sharply. "I mean, it's okay. I could do with a breath of fresh air," she said, offering him a kiss on the cheek before she hurried out of the door, her scarf trailing behind her.

George sank down onto the workshop bench. She'd never been like this before. He knew it must be hard working with your husband, spending most of your day and night with him, but she'd never seemed so desperate to get away from him before. He ran a freckled hand through his hair and dismissed his thoughts. Stir fry did sound nice, after all.

Pulling himself to his feet, he tidied the last few bits remaining in the workshop and walked to the main shop.

"Verity," he smiled. "How's today been?"

"Quite a lot of sales, Mr Weasley," she replied, sweeping the takings from the day into the bag that would take them directly to the business account in Gringotts. "Lots of kids like the new range, Mrs Weasley seems to have brought your ideas alive again, if you don't mind me saying."

George gave a weak smile in reply and turned to look at the 'newly released' section, noting the nearly empty shelves.

"I'll let her know, I'm sure she'll be pleased," George said. "Anyway, I should head up to the flat, you alright to lock up when you're done?"

"Of course, Mr Weasley," Verity replied. "Have a nice evening!"

"You too," George called in reply as he climbed the hidden staircase that led to their apartment.

Upon entering the apartment, George wandered towards to sofa and slumped down on it, switching on the television as he did so. He quiteenjoyed the television, despite not understanding all the muggle jokes. He flicked through the channels until he found a suitably amusing game show and lay down on the sofa, planning on watching until Hermione came home, then he could help with dinner.

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><p>He was jolted awake two hours later by the front door opening and checking his watch, let out a confused "Hermione?"<p>

She poked her head through the door of the living room, her face noticeably flushed. George looked at his watch again before checking the clock on the mantelpiece as well.

"How long did the shop take?" He asked, slightly confused.

"There was a long queue," Hermione said. "And I walked around a bit too. Fresh air, you know?"

"Yeah, of course," George nodded. "Need help with dinner?"

"I, uh," Hermione paused, then her face relaxed into a smile. "Sure."

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><p>George sat alone in the kitchen, a cup of tea cradled in his hands. Hermione had left about an hour ago to see Ginny. She'd been spending a lot of time with his sister lately, often leaving immediately after work to see her. She was never gone long, a couple of hours usually, but she always seemed reluctant to discuss anything with him later.<p>

George sighed and stood up to pour his now cold cup of tea down the sink. Without really thinking about it, he strode through the flat and stood in front of the fireplace. Grabbing a handful of floo powder, he dropped to his knees.

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place," he said clearly, dropping the powder in the flames and leaning forward so his head was enveloped in the green flames.

"BLOODY…" Harry jumped as he sat at the kitchen table before calming down and runninga hand through his scruffy hair. "Hey, George. You alright?"

George tilted his head in a non-committal gesture.

"Just wondering if my dear sister is around," he said casually.

Harry nodded.

"Yeah, but she's in the bath I think," Harry replied. "Tough day at training. She's got some incredible bruises…"

"Great," George said, wrinkling his nose. "Nice to have that image in my head…"

"Anything in particular you wanted to ask her?" Harry asked.

"Nah, just wanted to say hi," George said weakly. "You guys been busy lately?"

"It's been surprisingly quiet actually," Harry nodded. "Hermione hasn't been around in a while, said you guys were busy at work, and Ron's been in Rome with Luna."

"Yeah," George nodded. "Work has been busy. I should probably go, got a potion on the fire… Bye, Harry."

Harry's farewell was lost in the flames as George pulled his head back and slumped on the living room floor. So, Hermione was lying to him. Lying to everyone, apparently. Whatever it was, she would have told someone. Him, or Harry, or Ginny, or someone. But she wouldn't keep it a secret unless it was something awful.

The front door sounded and George looked up slowly.

"I'm going in the shower!" Hermione called out to him and George put his face in his hands. She always seemed to shower when she got back.

She was cheating on him. She had to be.

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><p>George was sat at the kitchen table when Hermione emerged from the bedroom, her hair wet.<p>

"Hey," she said cheerily, her face falling suddenly as she caught sight of George's expression. "What's up?"

"You're cheating on me," George said.

"I'm not cheating-"

"Don't even go there," George snarled. "Don't pretend you haven't been lying! You haven't been seeing Ginny, you haven't been spending hours at the shops! You've been… Sleeping with… Cheating on me with some other man!"

Hermione buried her face in her hands.

"George…"

"Don't '_George'_ me!" He yelled. "I can't believe you would do this to me… I can't believe that-"

"George!" Hermione interrupted him. "I'm pregnant."

"I mean, what are you even- Wait, what?"

"I'm going to have a baby," Hermione whispered. "We're going to have a baby."

"Are you, are you serious?" George's voice cracked. "A baby?"

"Yes, George, a baby," Hermione smiled softly.

"I'm so sorry," George grabbed her hand. "I didn't mean to… I was scared."

"I should have told you," Hermione said softly. "I just didn't want to say anything until I was sure. My mum," she sniffed. "My mum had a lot of trouble getting pregnant. I went to the Healers, and the muggle doctors and everything, I just had to check. I had to make sure this was actually going to happen, that I wouldn't lose the baby. I didn't want to get your hopes up…"

"It's okay," George whispered, standing up and pulling Hermione into a hug. "I'm sorry I doubted you, I love you, I'm so sorry." A small tear trickled down his cheek.

"Hey, I love you too," Hermione whispered into his chest. "I'll only ever love you, I promise."

George tilted her chin up and pressed a kiss softly to her lips.

"A baby," he whispered. "An _actual_ baby!"

"Yes, George," Hermione laughed. "An actual baby…"

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><p><strong>AN – Reviews? As an early Christmas present? ****  
><strong>


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